The Experiment
by ursula2
Summary: Frustrated by her lack of abilities as a 4400, Claire submits to Jordan Collier's experiments to uncover her hidden powers. Will they bring her the answers she seeks? Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Alright, so, this is only my second posted fanfic, so I should get some things straight first I suppose. First, the obligatory disclaimer. I own none of the characters from The 4400, I only own Claire and some of the secondary auxiliary characters that pop up over the course of the story.

Second, please read and review my story! I never got very much feedback for my first fic (although that which I did get was fabulous! Thanks to everyone!), and would welcome more. I know Fortyniner was laboriously slow in its progress, but I'm happy to say that this story is much more fully formed, so the updates should be fast in coming.

Third, I couldn't resist making Jordan Collier the baddie of my story. (Perhaps he's an ambiguous baddie with good intentions, but ultimately, the villain.) If that irks you then you might not want to read on.

Oh, and fourth? I could use some help on a title. The Experiment is too German-movie-about-volunteers-locked-in-a-prison-esque. Any help would be great!

Thanks and Enjoy!

Ursula

**Chapter 1**

"So you're Jordan's new secretary?"

She smiled wanly at him. "Personal assistant. He'll be out in just a moment."

"Right. Sorry about that."

Again, the thin smile, probably to get him to stop talking. Her condescension irked him. After all, Shawn had been moving about these offices freely for the past year, and this secretary expected him to take her directions? He considered the possibility that she just didn't know who he was; that she was unaware the important role he played at the Center as Jordan's second in command. Unlikely. Shawn didn't think Jordan would have gone to one of the local temp services to find Devon's replacement, but maybe this girl wasn't personally involved with the 4400 at all. He opened his mouth to set her straight.

"_Mr. Farrell_," she placed special emphasis on his name, as if she'd suspected his thoughts, and gestured toward the chairs in the corner of the anteroom, "If you want to have a seat over there, I'm sure Mr. Collier will be out to see you shortly." Cue the thin smile. "There are even some magazines over there you could take a look at if you'd like. I'm sure there's a back issue of _GQ_ or _Men's Health_ in there somewhere." She looked pointedly at his fitted shirt and pleated pants, the semi-uniform he had adopted upon coming to work at the Center.

Rude _and_ sarcastic? It was too much to be borne. He raised what he thought was a threatening finger to put her in her place, but before he could get a word out, Jordan opened his office door and hailed Shawn.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Shawn. Bit of an important phone call. I see you've met Claire?"

"Claire? Oh, yeah, yes." He settled for glaring at her reproachfully, a look that wasn't lost on Jordan. "Claire, please hold all my calls while I'm in with Shawn, would you?"

"Of course." That was it. No back talk, no sarcastic tone. Not to Jordan. Shawn seethed as he followed Jordan into the office and shut the door.

"So what happened to Devon?"

"Devon will be taking an – ah – extended leave of absence. She found that she just wasn't well suited to the rigors of her position."

"The rigors of her position? Sure, Jordan. You sent her away, didn't you?"

"Now don't be so melodramatic, Shawn. I have placed Devon in the care of some of my most trusted people who are working to construct LA's 4400 Center. She will be well looked after there."

"You mean she won't be in danger of letting slip about your romantic dalliances there. You know, I'm not sure sometimes whether you're not a real bastard, Jordan."

"And it's your very uncertainty that makes you so endearing to me." Jordan smiled benignly. It was a fight they'd had before; one Shawn found pointless to continue. There were things about Jordan that Shawn wasn't entire comfortable with, and his methods were occasionally unorthodox (to say the least), but he felt sure that his mentor was doing something important for the future of humanity, and he tried to question his actions as little as possible.

"So who's she?" he asked, gesturing toward the closed office door, toward Claire.

"Claire? She's an interesting case. Been gone since 1977, only 22 years old. No family left, and no discernable abilities have surfaced since her return. Still, I believe there's…something there."

"What do you mean?" Shawn scowled, and Jordan chuckled.

"She got under your skin, did she?" He shook his head. "Put your personal feelings aside for a moment, Shawn, and let me ask you something." Jordan suddenly became animated; his voice took on the fervor Shawn recognized from whenever Jordan felt he'd encountered a breakthrough regarding the 4400. "How many non-4400s have we attracted to the Center since its establishment?"

"I dunno. Not too many, maybe 50?"

"And they're all here in the hopes of discovering some hidden ability, some hidden talent that they hope we'll be able to bring out in them, am I right?"

"Yes."

"And how many of those 50 people have actually uncovered any abilities?"

"Well, none."

"So maybe we're taking the wrong tack. Maybe the key to unlocking the 4400 in everyone lies first in unlocking the 4400 in – well, in the 4400."

"Jordan, what do you mean?"

"I mean, what about the returnees like Claire? She was gone for almost thirty years, and – and _nothing._ You were only gone for three and you have one of the most incredible gifts I've yet seen among us."

"So, what are you saying? That she has some sort of ability that simply hasn't manifested?"

"Precisely! And if we can encourage Claire's latent abilities to surface, then we'll have a better idea of how to foster such abilities among the normal population!"

"Yeah, but if Claire's been taking classes here at the Center and undergoing all the same treatment, visualization therapy, attempts to open new neural pathways, and she still hasn't discovered any abilities – I mean, what more can you do, Jordan?"

"Ah, I'm designing several _experiments_." He paused, seeming to think better of saying what he was about to. "Their composition isn't important. What's important is that we're finally taking a step forward!"

"I don't know, Jordan. I'll believe it when I see it."

"You will, my boy, you will!"


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so here it is, Chapter 2, where things get a bit…meatier. Hope it goes down alright. Thanks to Sarah as my first and only reviewer. I'm editing that last line from the first chapter per your suggestion. You're right "my boy" doesn't really sound like a phrase that would come out of Jordan. Thanks loads!

Ursula

**Chapter 2**

The following day, Shawn burst into Jordan's apartment, already late for two meetings that morning, to witness a horribly awkward scene. Claire, with her back to him, was just pulling a t-shirt over her naked torso while Jordan watched her from the couch. Seeing Jordan's start of surprise, Claire turned to see Shawn in the door and her eyes fairly bugged out of her head in shock. A blush began to spread over her freckled cheekbones, and for a split second, her obvious discomfort gave Shawn a sense of pleasure. A bit of payback for her harsh quips.

"Oh, um – huh. Wow, I –" Shawn fumbled for an appropriate apology.

"Yeah, I _know_. They're selling CBGBs t-shirts at the mall now. Crazy, right? Never woulda thought. Hear they're going under though. Shame. Okay, well, 'bye." She had used the awkward babble to edge around Shawn to the door and slipped past him into the hall before he could form a sentence.

Shawn turned a cocked eyebrow at Jordan. "Some of your _experiments_?"

"Now don't you take that tone with me. You should know by now that things are often not as they seem."

"But Jesus, Jordan. You can't keep your hands off a secretary long enough to get some work done? Don't you remember what happened with Devon? Or do you want to send another one to the hospital to get her stomach pumped?"

"I mean it Shawn, stop. That's not what was going on there. You're jumping to conclusions."

"Am I? Because it sure looked like she was standing naked in your apartment."

"And she was. But only to see if the experiments were having any physical effect."

"Huh." Shawn pursed his lips. "And were they?"

"Not yet, not yet."

"So I suppose you'll have to check her again tonight after dinner just to be sure there's been no new _development_."

"Shawn – " Jordan adopted the tone of a weary adult addressing a petulant child.

"Forget it Jordan. I don't want to know any more about this. I mean it. I don't want to know."

* * *

Coincidentally, Jordan did choose to continue his private experimentation with Claire later than evening after the chaos of day-to-day operations at the Center had died down. He took her to a back room off his apartment, empty and windowless, and gestured for her to sit in the room's only chair.

"Now Claire, it would seem we've gone just about as far as we can with the mental testing we've developed at this facility. So I think, and I hope you'll agree, that in order to discover your hidden gifts, we need to engage in some more – ah – physical methods."

She raised one eyebrow in a disconcertingly Shawn-like gesture. "You mean physical methods like me taking my clothes off again? Look, I don't know what you – "

"Claire, don't be silly. Now didn't you come to me expressing your desire to do anything to uncover the talent lying dormant inside you? I thought we'd reached an agreement in which you promised to trust me and my experimental methods in order to reap the full benefits of my approach?"

She sighed. "You're right. That is what we agreed."

"So you need to trust that anything I ask you to do is only in your own best interest." He paused and looked at her meaningfully. "So, are we on the same page again?"

"Yes."

"Good." He approached her in the chair, produced several pairs of handcuffs and began binding both her wrists and ankles to the chair's supports.

"Huh," Claire mused dryly as she watched Jordan's progress as he fixed her to the chair. "Well this seems _very_ far removed from the getting naked approach. If I'd known what you had in mind, I'd have brought my bullwhip and leather."

"Please. Cool it with the sarcasm." He said it in his hard edged, brook no opposition voice. Claire already knew better than to contradict him when he adopted that tone.

"Right." She breathed deeply, evidently exercising supreme restraint, as Jordan finished his preparations and moved away from the chair again. She closed her eyes to focus on the task at hand rather than being angry at Jordan. "So, what's the – ow! What the hell!" A sharp pain jarred her shoulder, pushing her back painfully in the chair. She opened her eyes to see Jordan standing a few yards away next to a small pile of what looked like bocce balls. "Jordan, what are you - ?" He aimed his next missile at her stomach and fired before she could finish her sentence. The force of the blow took all the wind out of her, making speech impossible.

"So, Claire, what do we know about the emergence of other 4400's abilities? Most often, as was the case with Orson Bailey and Carl Morrissey, they were responses to direct threats to the returnee's person, causing them to have an extreme reaction to protect themselves from harm. So, what is the body's capability of protecting itself with the dormant powers of the mind when it's given no other recourse? That is precisely what these experiments are" _thwack _"designed" _thud _"to" _smack_ "detect. You have the ability in there somewhere. We just have to tempt it to emerge. It's not entirely scientific; it's not based on some complex technology, but I believe it will be – in the long run – effective."

She gulped several shallow breaths as he paused in his onslaught. "Isn't there another - ?"

He hurled another ball that made contact around her shins. "There is no other way. I thought you said you were going to trust me."

"Yeah, but Jordan, you're really hurting me." She was powerless to stop the tears that began to cloud her vision; her entire body was focused on recovering from the blows. Her vision began to fade, collapsing inward into darkness like the closing of a shutter. Jordan's voice called her awake before she could lose consciousness. He shook her roughly, causing her to sputter and shake her head, the only movement she was capable of while restricted in the chair.

"No you don't. The experiment is no good to you if you lose consciousness."

The thick walls of Jordan's personal apartment muffled Claire's protests and curses as Jordan continued his experimentation while the Center shut down for the night around them. She didn't know how long it had been before Jordan abruptly stopped throwing and approached her, keys in hand.

"That'll have to be it for tonight. You don't seem to be making any progress. And my pitching arm is getting tired." He chuckled as he said this, as if he expected her to be in high spirits and to laugh at his joke. He patted her shoulder gently in what he must have thought of as a fatherly gesture. "We'll try again tomorrow."

She looked up at him blearily. "What? Tomorrow?" She could barely muster the energy necessary to shake her head. "No, no more Jordan. I'm done."

He didn't even look up from his fumbling with the handcuffs, but his voice took on a businesslike tone. "Claire, need I remind you what is waiting for you beyond the Center's walls? What did you have to offer the world in 1977? Put simply, nothing. You were a junkie with no skills and absolutely nothing to contribute to society. I took you in. I got you clean. I've given you a place to live, a job. You want to throw all that away and go back on the streets? Except of course now you'd be worse off than before because it wouldn't take your streetwise compatriots long to peg you as a 4400 _freak_. And people fear what they don't understand. You wouldn't last the week."

Even as he said the words, Claire knew they were true. The Center was her only home; she had no choice but to do what Jordan demanded. She tried to trust him, tried to believe that what he was doing had a greater purpose, to bring out the 4400 in her and from there to bring it out in the greater world. She found it difficult to concentrate on such idyllic thoughts when every inch of her body ached from the attack. "Tomorrow then."


	3. Chapter 3

Shawn pounded heavily on the door, but it seemed to have to effect, as Claire's music was blaring so loudly, she couldn't possibly have heard. Seeing there was nothing for it, he turned the knob and stuck his head around the door. The music was even more deafening inside, and Claire stood with her back to him in front of her closet wrapped in a towel, her tangled blonde hair clinging damply to her face. She hopped from foot to foot and bobbed her head emphatically to the beat as she puzzled over her wardrobe choices for the morning.

"I could file a noise complaint." He said, smiling.

She whipped around, and seeing him in her doorway, narrowed her blue eyes. "Like you could hear this all the way up in your penthouse." She turned the volume dial down on the stereo, bringing the din to a manageable level. "So what, are you trying to catch me naked again?"

He smiled crookedly, unsure whether to be flustered. "No, ah, just bearing a message. Joan is out sick so we're going to need you to work the floor this afternoon."

She pursed her lips. "Okay." She moved to shut the door, but he stopped her with his arm.

"Hey, are you listening to a record?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but technology's come a long way since you've been gone."

She scoffed. "Yeah well, I can't get the bass right at all on those things. Too many buttons and not the right ones if you ask me. Besides, it just sounds better like this. Sid Vicious had a bass for a reason, and I like to _feel _it. Now if there's nothing else – "

"Nope, just – hey, what's that?" As she moved to close the door, he noticed an angry purple bruise on her shoulder blade.

"It's nothing. I'll be on the floor at two." She closed the door before he could protest any further.

The bruise, which she now probed gingerly with her fingers, was of course the result of Jordan's experimentation of the previous night, and it was only one of several that were forming all over her body. Luckily, and probably calculatingly, Jordan had avoided aiming any of his projectiles at her face, so she figured that with the right pantsuit, no one would be the wiser. Of course she had no idea how she would get through an afternoon of working the Center's reception floor, giving visitors tours and answering their inane questions, while her joints ached so badly she feared they would just give up entirely. Still, there was nothing for it. Jordan had made it perfectly clear to her where she stood at the Center. She was there to perform a function, and should she fail, she could be thrown out on the street without a second thought. Despite his questionable methods, Jordan Collier had given her life back to her, putting her through rapid detox and helping her get her feet back underneath her. He was her savior. Even as she thought it, she shuddered.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again Sarah. Had to wait for your review before I could update! Hope you like. - Ursula

**Chapter 4 **

It was one of those rare pleasant nights in late autumn when the sky wasn't threatening rain and the temperature was just short of perfect, and Claire chose to take her dinner outside, relishing the thought of a quiet meal away from the bustle of the Center's main floor. She stretched out at the edge of the steps leading up to the building. The bruises on her back stung, but the cool concrete felt good against her fevered skin. She put the earbuds of her mp3 player in her ears and turned up the volume to drown out the rest of the world. This was one bit of modern technology she had embraced without a backward glance. True, the bass was lacking, but what did she care when she could carry her music with her?

She pursed her lips in a frown when Shawn approached her, interrupting her solitude. She considered him, standing over her upside down, his close-cropped brown hair tousled, as he considered her, lying sprawled on the concrete with arms and limbs splayed every which way. She pulled out one of her earbuds.

"More of the Sex Pistols?"

"Huh. I didn't think you'd recognize. Before your time, I suppose."

He smiled, although from her vantage point it looked like a frown. "I didn't. You – ah – you mentioned Sid Vicious so I –uh – I googled him."

She sat up, smiling. Not that thin smile she used in Jordan's office; this time he glimpsed a row of teeth. "Ah, so a little research in the name of musical education."

"Right, I suppose." He took a seat next to her on the steps.

"Well, you've got a long way to go. Wasn't that Dido I heard coming from your apartment the other night?"

"Oh, so you were lurking around my apartment?"

"You know, hoping to catch you naked."

He grinned. "Right. An eye for an eye. Didn't feel like eating inside?"

"Nah. Needed some peace and quiet. You know I – " She didn't get to finish her sentence. Joan, one of the other workers that had been on the floor with Claire that day, cleared her throat noisily behind them.

"Oh, hi Joan." Shawn called.

"Claire, Mr. Collier is looking for you. He says you're late to a meeting? He seems pretty peeved. I would get in there if I were you."

Claire sighed. "Right. Tell him I'll be right in." Joan hurried back inside.

"A meeting? What kind of a meeting do you have with Jordan at 9:00 at night?"

"It's nothing. I should go." She stood, and he scrambled to follow. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay, see you around." He said to her retreating back as she re-entered the Center's main doors.

* * *

Claire settled herself again in the lone chair in the back room off of Jordan's apartment.

"Well Claire, now that we've established the content of the experiments, is it safe to assume that there's no longer any need for restraints?" He jangled the handcuffs in demonstration.

"I suppose not." Claire eyed him warily from her sitting position, trying to scan the room unobtrusively for more of the heavy projectiles from the previous night.

"It's important that you understand that these experiments depend on your mental response to the stimuli, and if you resort to physical means of defense, it counteracts what we are trying to accomplish. Does this make sense to you?"

"Yeah," she said shortly, annoyed. "Yeah, I understand. You know Jordan, I may be young, but I'm not stupid. You didn't have to blindside me with those bowling balls yesterday to get me to play along."

Jordan gave a brief, lopsided smile. "I was hoping the element of surprise would help bring your abilities to the fore."

"No such luck."

"It would appear not."

She sighed. "So what now?"

Even Jordan had to marvel at the incongruousness of Claire's ability to actually allow him to cause her pain without responding physically. She clenched her jaw and tried to keep her eyes open, despite the tears that streamed from them. She even stopped cursing; the only sound Jordan heard coming from her was the occasional grunt or hiss of escaping breath. Now that she was prepared for what Jordan intended to do to her, she seemed intensely determined to conquer his tests. What Jordan didn't realize is that Claire was no stranger to disengaging her mind from the world around her. She had spent several years in dirty New York apartments doing just that before her abduction, but this time she didn't have the help of a needle in her arm. She was dependent on her own strength.

Still, even her stoic acceptance of his assaults didn't seem to have any positive effect on the experiments. Claire finished her second night having made no more progress than the night before.


	5. Chapter 5

Woo hoo! Two reviews this time! Thanks guys!

Sarah – Don't worry, they weren't really bowling balls, Claire was just being hyperbolic to get her point across. :-) As for how I manage to update so quickly, that's for me to know and for you to become increasingly disillusioned with if I ever fall behind:-) Thanks for your support!

Saynt Jimmy – You really would've pegged Shawn as a Sid Vicious fan? I mean, maybe I would've given him credit for liking Nuevo-pseudo-punk like Green Day, but the classics? Oh well, he'll learn.

Enjoy! - Ursula

**Chapter 5**

Claire's late night meeting with Jordan had piqued Shawn's interest, so when he spotted Jordan in the Center's main hall the following morning, he stopped his friend with a hand on his arm.

"Jordan, I've changed my mind."

"Sorry?" Jordan looked at him quizzically.

"About your experiments. About Claire. I want to know…how they're progressing. I'd like to know how you're getting along."

"Sadly, no real progress yet."

"So," Shawn leaned in toward Jordan conspiratorially, "how, er, how do they work exactly?"

"We really are showing some interest, aren't we?" Jordan seemed amused. "Shawn, consider your own abilities. Your healing came fairly naturally, but think of the other half of your power. Would you have ever known that you possessed the ability to…to…?"

"…to suck people's lives out of them?" Shawn filled in miserably.

"Exactly. Well, would you have ever discovered that ability had you not been confronted with a direct threat to your person?"

"So what, you're sicking school bullies on her in the hopes that she'll be able to keep them away?" He half-smiled, amused by the absurdity of the idea he proposed, but his smile faded instantly as he saw how carefully Jordan considered his comment.

"More or less."

"More or less? What does that mean, Jordan, 'more or less'?" Shawn swallowed uneasily as he remembered the purple bruise he had glimpsed on Claire's shoulder the previous morning. "Jordan, are you – are you _hurting_ her? I mean, because I saw some bruises – "

Jordan looked at him sharply. "Someone's been spending quite a bit of free time with the young lady, huh? To have gleaned so much." He attempted to walk past Shawn and continue his brisk path across the hall, but Shawn stopped him again with a restraining hand on his arm, his eyes asking the question he couldn't put into words. "Really Shawn, I don't see how this concerns you, and besides, this is hardly the place to be having such a conversation."

"Hell yes it concerns me Jordan," Shawn's voice lowered to a violent hiss. "Because how can I believe you, how can I _follow_ you, if I can't respect you?"

Jordan turned an angry gaze at his protégé and responded in a whispered hiss. "You want to respect something? Respect the fact that I am trying to keep this Center and this foundation running despite obstacles at every turn, despite public distrust and an abysmal lack of funding. Because it has a chance to better the lives, not just of the 4400, but of the population of the world at large. Perhaps you think I lack compassion in the design of my experiments with Claire? Well I can't _afford_ compassion. If I am to accomplish my goal, _our goal_," at this, he placed both hands on Shawn's shoulders for emphasis, "then I need to give the people something extraordinary, something to show them what we can really do. And Claire? Claire has the potential to _be_ that extraordinary thing that forces the world to take notice."

Shawn shook his head, torn between believing in his teacher and obeying his instinct. "There has to be another way."

"You don't think I've tried the other ways? I've given keys to celebrities; given tours to influential press…none of it works Shawn. The fact is, the 4400 _need_ Claire."

"That doesn't mean that I can condone you hurting her. That doesn't give you the right –"

Jordan patted Shawn's arm in a conciliatory gesture. "You don't need to condone it Shawn. I can guarantee you that Claire will come to no real harm while undergoing experiments with me. You've no reason to worry." At that Jordan successfully stepped away from Shawn and continued quickly to his original destination, while Shawn was left in the hall, wondering what exactly Jordan had meant by "real harm."


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, sorry for the delay, my two lonely reviewers and other phantom readers. Enjoy! And thanks for your feedback!

Sarah – Thanks for spreading the word! This chapter should satisfy some of your curiosity…although no white horses. Sorry!

Saynt Jimmy – Has everyone over the age of thirteen really heard of Sid Vicious? I guess there's more hope for humanity than I thought:-)

- Ursula

**Chapter 6**

Jordan's experiments with Claire went on for three painful nights, and they never varied much in their content. Claire continued to force herself to maintain consciousness for several hours as Jordan hurled various objects at her in an attempt to stimulate her defensive abilities. On the third night, he seemed particularly put off by her lack of response. He spoke angrily, yet maintained his customary calm, as he conducted his experiments.

"I have to confess my frustration. Why aren't you applying yourself? My initial hypothesis as to why we've seen no results is that you're simply not applying your will. Stop trying not to scream and start trying to protect yourself!" He breathed heavily. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they did send you back unchanged. Maybe you were some sort of mistake." His voice took on a cold sort of mirth. "It would appear that you're just the same" _thwack_ "stupid" _thump_ "useless –"

Nothing. No sound of impact. Jordan raised his eyebrows in surprise to see Claire still sitting in the center of the room, staring through narrowed eyes at the approaching orb…except it was no longer approaching. It hung spinning in midair mere inches from her face.

"Ha-ha!" Jordan shrieked triumphantly. Claire seemed called out of a trance by his shout, and when she broke her stare at the ball, it thumped heavily to the ground. "It worked!" He bounded jubilantly across the room and attempted an awkward half-hug while Claire remained seated, stunned, in the chair. She winced from his touch on her fresh bruises, but was still too shocked to speak. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Claire swallowed loudly and attempted to recapture her usual brash manner. "Well, I –" She couldn't suppress a victorious smile. "I have to admit it does sound nice to stop getting the shit kicked out of me."

His answer was to lob another ball in her direction. "Sarcasm. Please." This time she stopped it midway through its path and sent it spinning to the ground. He threw three more in quick succession, and she was able to stop each one, although the last nearly made contact wither her sternum.

She sagged in the chair, exhausted. "Okay Jordan, you've seen that I can do it; you've seen that I can do it more than once. I'm exhausted. Please. Let me go to sleep."

He sized her up, evidently deciding that she would be no more use to him that night. "Alright. Go ahead. We'll continue this tomorrow night." He stopped her as she made to leave the chair. "Claire, come to think of it, why don't you take tomorrow off from your regular duties? Joan can fill in. You've earned a bit of a rest I think." He patted her on the arm in an almost fatherly fashion and she winced again, as uncomfortable with his sudden familiarity as she was with his hand's proximity to her bruises. He seemed not to notice and waved her dismissively from the room.

She stumbled toward her apartment, still exhausted, but nevertheless elated. She had done it! Jordan's experiments, for all the pain they caused, had worked! She felt conflicted regarding Jordan. His tactics had hurt her and he seemed utterly unconcerned for her welfare while he performed his experiments, yet they had worked! His single-minded concentration was frightening to her, but she couldn't deny its effectiveness. She could add another to the list of gifts Jordan Collier had given her since her return. As she walked the corridors of the Center toward her home, she felt the thrill of new discovery. Finally she was truly among the 4400.

With that realization, she was no longer tired. She walked past the door to her tiny apartment and continued to wander the labyrinthine residential hallways of the Center. She half-knew where she was headed the entire time, but she feigned surprise even to herself when she found herself standing in front of the doors to Shawn's penthouse apartment. Why seek him out? She hated to admit it, but the answer was fairly obvious. She enjoyed his company. True, his situation was far removed from her own; he had never dealt with the issues she had before or after their abduction, but she had nevertheless enjoyed the few brief conversations they had shared. Like her, he seemed determined to maintain a certain amount of normalcy in his personal interactions, despite the gravity of their situation. They were members of the 4400, but that didn't mean they had stopped being human beings. Claire was only 22 after all, and she still wanted to goof off and indulge in what she loved in life, forgetting, if for only a moment, the responsibility and pressures of every day. She suspected that Shawn, despite his bigwig position at the Center, wanted much the same thing.

She moved closer to the door, preparing to knock, but paused as she heard the sound of guitar chords coming softly from the interior. A closet musician? She smiled. Maybe they had more in common than she'd thought. She knocked lightly and called, "Are you decent?"

She heard his feet padding across the floor and then the click of a bolt being slid back before he opened the door. "Oh, so you really do lurk out here trying to catch me in my skivvies." He smiled and opened the door wider so she could enter. "What are you doing here? It's after midnight."

"Couldn't sleep." She wandered further into the apartment, and he followed her. She whistled softly. "This is a nice place."

"Yeah, well, Jordan's been good to me."

"Huh."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. It doesn't mean anything." She picked up the guitar he had discarded on the couch. "Were those some easy listening hits I heard coming from here before?" She busied herself checking the instrument's tuning.

He grimaced. "Hey, just because music doesn't give you a heart attack or incite mass violence doesn't mean it's no good. You should try it sometime."

"Huh, me? Sing the classics? What, d'you mean like this?" She jokingly strummed the opening chords of _Moon River_ and sang in a mocking Show-White-esque falsetto as she plucked the harmony on the guitar.

She stopped abruptly, scoffing. There was a moment of silence before Shawn seemed to come to his senses. "Yeah, like that. See? That was nice."

"Nice? Ha. Well, in case you haven't noticed, that's not really me." She handed the guitar back to him.

"I don't know. I was doing some research about that music you're always listening to," Claire raised her eyebrows at this confession, but he continued unfazed, pretending not to have noticed, "and it wasn't all like that with the angry guitars and shit. I was working on this when you came in." He frowned in concentration as he plucked the opening notes and began to sing.

"_Sometimes I feel so happy,_

_Sometimes I feel so sad._

_Sometimes I feel so happy,_

_But mostly you just make me mad._

_Baby, you just make me mad…"_

"Oh," she sighed happily, "The Velvet Underground. I _love_ that song."

"Am I right? It's not all Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious."

"I guess. But somehow it's just not what I want to hear right now. I want something that I can feel coming up through my feet from the floorboards, something that shakes me up. You know, I want to listen to music that gets me right now. And right now I'm…" She raised her hands in frustration, looking for the right words.

"Angry?" He finished her sentence for her. He put the guitar aside and moved toward her on the couch. "Lost? Lonely?" He bent his head towards her, and her heart beat wildly in her chest. Was this really what she wanted? Some tryst with this boy her birth certificate claimed was over forty years younger than she? She realized that Shawn was every bit as alone as she was, trapped in his position of power while no one around him was willing to get close, surrounded by people but always isolated. His closest friend was Jordan, if the man could be called a friend. With no family that would have him, he was just as adrift as Claire. He interrupted her reverie by placing a firm hand on her shoulder as he moved closer. She yelped and practically jumped from his touch. He had inadvertently pressed one of the painful welts left over from her late nights with Jordan.

"What? What'd I - ?"

She tried to pass it off as nothing at all, smiling dismissively. "It's nothing; I just – I have a – a…"

"A bruise." He wrinkled his brow in concern. He had suspected that Jordan's "no real harm" policy would result in more of the same purple marks he had seen earlier. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

She shook her head, still trying to smile nonchalantly. Claire couldn't explain it, but she didn't want Shawn to know about her meetings with Jordan. Would they make her seem weak in his eyes? Lesser?

Shawn changed tactics abruptly. "Let's pretend for a minute that you're in love with me."

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Bear with me now." He grinned and held out his hands in a pacifying gesture. She looked at him quizzically. "Now since you love me, will you tell me what you get up to with Jordan every night?"

"No."

"No? But you _really love_ me Claire; we're not just talking a little bit of fun here. This is it." He tried his most sincere expression.

The corners of her mouth turned up, but she still looked suspicious as she took a deep breath, seemingly considering his hypothetical situation carefully. "Still, no."

"What?" Shawn put his hand over his heart, taking mock-offense. "Why?"

"Well, if I really loved you, I wouldn't want you to know what I got up to at night with other men, would I? It would just be too painful." She shrugged by way of apology, happy to thwart his attempt to gain information.

"I don't know." He probed his chest gingerly with his fingertips. "This is pretty painful. I think –" He adopted a tragic expression. "I think I'm heartbroken!"

"Shut up!" She leaned over and pushed him playfully. Perhaps she stayed that way a moment too long, just long enough for things to become awkward for the second time that evening. Claire stood up quickly.

"I should go. I mean, I have to go."

He sighed. "Right."

"Um, if you'd like to discuss any other hypothetical situations in the future, just let me know, okay?"

"Sure." Shawn smiled as she hurried toward the door, but she wondered for a moment if she saw a glimpse of hurt and confusion in his eyes. In truth, Shawn's smile masked his very real frustration. He couldn't get answers from Jordan; he couldn't get answers from Claire, but he couldn't stop himself from obsessing over Jordan's so-called experiments. Jordan had once confessed to him his comfort in knowing that the future of the foundation rested in Shawn's hands. He had even referred to his protégé as "pure and unsullied." Despite his firm belief in Jordan's vision for the future, Shawn couldn't disengage his sense of moral wrongdoing. Did it have anything to do with his growing attraction to Claire? He couldn't deny she intrigued him, but his need to know about Jordan's experiments went beyond that to his sense of injustice. He didn't merely _want _to know; he _had _to.


	7. Chapter 7

So guys, sorry it's taken me so long to post again. The good news is that this is a long one and…I've gotten some more reviewers! Hooray! Although you might all abandon me after this chapter…I dunno. So, enjoy!

-Ursula

Sarah – Yes, Jordan continues to be psycho, but I can't help feeling he thinks he's doing right. There's more of Shawn in here; hopefully that will satisfy you for a bit:-) Thanks for all your great reviews!

Saynt Jimmy – Did you really think I'd answer that? ;-)

Lilsam/Rockstarhobbit/Indiepunk – Thanks for reviewing you guys! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Hopefully this chapter is as good for you!

**Chapter 7**

She tried to maintain confidence upon entering Jordan's apartment the following night, not knowing what new form of torture he could have invented to provoke her now that she seemed to have passed his initial test. He led her to the same room they always used, but before she could settle herself in the chair, he asked:

"Take off your shirt please Claire."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't be silly. I want to see if the wounds from our experiments are healing faster than average due to your newfound abilities."

"Jordan, you could just ask me." He gave her the same disapproving look a parent gives a child when she returns home with a muddy skirt from playing in the ditch next to the house. She sighed and pulled her t-shirt over her head. He may have a brilliant plan for the future of mankind, but Claire couldn't deny herself several thoughts along the lines of _boys will be boys _as she submitted to Jordan's scrutiny. It wasn't the first time Jordan had seen her naked torso, she supposed he had wanted some comparison point before the so-called physical experimentation had begun, but she struggled to keep her head high and the smirk from her expression as he looked at her. "They're not. As you can see."

He cleared his throat loudly. "That's fine." She hastily replaced her shirt, indulging in a single sneer when her face was hidden by the fabric.

He said nothing and she sat docilely in the chair. "Very well. Shall we begin?" She shrugged, trying not to betray the sudden wave of nervousness that had come over her upon seeing that familiar pile of heavy projectiles in the corner. She wasn't sure whether she could do it again, whether she could repel them as she had the previous night. What if it was a fluke? Her heart thundered in her chest, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. She concentrated fiercely as Jordan picked up his first sphere. She narrowed her eyes as he cocked his arm to throw, and saw the ball leave his hand and travel in a smooth arc toward her. But the arc was incomplete. The ball stopped several feet away from Claire and hit the ground with a thud.

"Haha!" she shouted jubilantly. She felt effervescent, light, buoyed by her newfound power.

Jordan smiled, and Claire's relief was short lived as she concentrated on repelling the barrage of objects he threw at her in quick succession. Jordan allowed himself the time to marvel at Claire's poise. As she sat quietly in the chair, her back ramrod straight and her countenance oddly serene, he was reminded of a museum exhibit he had once seen, a recreation of an Egyptian temple. Lined against the temple wall there had stood a row of statues, the Egyptian gods with their human bodies and animal heads, staring impassively at the visitors as they ambled by, just as heedless of the flashing cameras as they had been to the pleas for mercy from their subjects several millennia ago. As Claire sat there, driving back everything he threw at her, her eerie calm seemed to goad him on, encouraging him to throw harder, to aim better, and as a result, he felt almost frustrated when none of his projectiles made contact with their intended targets. They spent the better part of an hour at the activity, Claire's enthusiasm at her initial success slowly souring into exhaustion. When Jordan paused to gather up some of the dispersed balls, she took the opportunity to speak.

"Jordan, I'm done. I mean, what more is there to do? I can do it, right? Are we going to sit here all night while you lob these things at me?" His response was to throw another, which she sent spinning to the floor with only a cursory glance. "Jordan, _come on."_ Her annoyance was plain, but he feigned deafness and threw another. She repelled it. She couldn't believe he was continuing to harass her, when it seemed his point had been proven! Her annoyance turned to anger as Jordan threw the next ball. She stared at it until she felt it must smash into a million pieces, but instead of exploding from the force of her rage, the ball changed in its course and flew back towards Jordan, hitting him squarely in the chest. The breath was knocked out of him with a satisfying whooshing sound. He stared at her, momentarily breathless, and she let out a startled laugh.

She half-smiled up at him as he approached. "Sorry about that Jordan, I didn't know I could do that! Now do you think we could - ?" He drew his arm back and hit her squarely across the face with the back of his open hand. Her head whipped around with the force of the blow, and her eyes widened in shock.

He fairly snarled. "Subject shows resistance to external threats but is still incapable of defense against human assailant."

* * *

The next morning the welt rose angrily on her cheek, red and unmistakable. Claire stared at herself woefully in her bathroom mirror, knowing that she was expected on the Center floor in a matter of minutes and that there was no amount of makeup that would hide the mark Jordan had left on her cheek. Her mind whirled crazily, as it had for the past twelve hours, oscillating between fear and confusion. She exhausted herself trying to decipher the meaning of Jordan's blow. Was it really, as he claimed, the next step in his experimentation, his attempt to teach her to repel the human hand as easily as she did other objects? It hadn't felt that way at the time. Claire was no stranger to the back of an angry man's hand, and to her it had felt much more like rage and retaliation than experimentation. She fully realized that there was only one person at the Center who could help her through her predicament, but she dreaded asking him.

Shawn hurried down the hallway to the first key lecture he was supposed to supervise that morning before he heard someone hiss his name.

"Shawn!" He turned in the direction of the sound, but the branching corridor made it difficult to see who was calling him. "Shawn!" the voice called again, urgently. He moved toward the sound, away from the main corridor, and was surprised to find Claire, slouched in a dark corner. He had assumed that she wouldn't want to talk to him after the incident in his apartment two nights earlier. He swore to himself that he hadn't intended to kiss her, but he couldn't help himself when he was around her. She made him feel like exactly what he was, a young man; not a healer or the next great savior of mankind, but just a regular guy. A regular guy with sub-par musical tastes, but normal nonetheless. Whenever they were together, he felt barraged by contradictory emotions. He felt sure of himself, yet that he needed to prove himself. He wanted to protect her, but he knew she would never accept his help. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling, but he felt completely uncertain of her own regard for him. He was left with an intense sense of frustration; completely at a loss for how to behave around her.

And today was no different. He knew he wanted to do whatever she asked long before he saw her damaged face and the pain in her eyes. He noticed how tired she looked; her hair hung limply in her face and her clothing was wrinkled.

Her words tumbled out in a rush as she barely paused for breath, afraid she would lose her nerve. "Shawn, look, I know we haven't always gotten along, and I really don't want to hassle you." Looking at her face in the shadows and remembering the night they had spent in his apartment, Shawn was hard pressed to remember any time when they hadn't "gotten along." Her eyebrows were drawn together in consternation, yet she seemed so anxious and sad; Shawn had no idea what to expect from her.

"I need you to do me a favor." She turned her face toward him for the first time and the purplish reds of Jordan's angry mark made themselves plain. "I need to work the floor this morning, and I would – look, I wouldn't ask, but – I don't know if – Could you heal this for me?" Her voice quavered for a moment, but she regained her composure quickly.

Shawn stared at her, mouth agape, completely at a loss as to how to respond. "Who did this to you?" He knew even as he asked it that she would never answer the question.

"It's not important. Please." She looked into his eyes with such wild distress; he knew how difficult it must have been for her to even ask for his help.

Still searching for the correct response, his only recourse was to lighten the tone to that of their accustomed banter. "If I take care of this for you, will you tell me what's been going on with you and Jordan?" His tone was joking, but the question was serious.

She tried a tentative laugh. "Are you kidding?" When he didn't immediately respond, he saw the beginning of an angry flush spread on her already colored cheeks. "What, is this bribery now? You can't just help me because it would be a nice thing to do for a – for a friend? Forget it Shawn. Just forget it." She turned to leave him in the darkened hallway alone, but he grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving.

"Hey, cut it out. I wasn't serious, I was just – Forget about it. Come here." She wasn't prepared and gasped slightly as he cupped his palm over her bruised cheek. His brow furrowed in concentration. His body shook and hers responded, yet when he took his hand away the bruise remained. He pursed his lips and looked closely at her face, confused. Again, he placed his hand over the mark. He shuddered violently, concentrating all his force on healing her wound. He was called abruptly back to reality by her short yelp of pain as he pressed too firmly on the still vivid mark.

Shawn had never been unsuccessful in his healing efforts before, at least never for something as superficial as a bruise, and his inability to help Claire left him shaken. "I can't heal that."

For a moment, he thought he saw tears building in her eyes, but she shook her head abruptly and batted his hand away from her face. "I didn't think you could." She smiled, but she couldn't hide the sadness behind it. "I have to go."

"Claire – wait! What's going on?"

"Shawn, please don't ask me that."

"You can't just show me something like that and leave out any sort of explanation. I want to help goddamnit!" What was Jordan doing to her?

She smiled thinly. "You tried to help and you can't. Never mind Shawn, it's not your problem." Couldn't she tell by the way he was looking at her that he had made it his problem?

"Claire –" She continued down the steps to the Center's main floor, not turning to acknowledge his call.

What was it Jordan had told him that first day? That the composition of his experiments wasn't what mattered, just their results? He bunched his hands angrily into fists at his sides as he turned abruptly, forgetting the first key lecture, and headed toward Jordan's office. Armed with a consequence neither Claire nor Jordan could deny, he went to confront the man who had been the closest thing to a father figure in his life since his falling out with his once-favorite uncle, Tommy.

He burst into the office startling Joan, who had taken Claire's place at the reception desk again that day. "Mr. Farrell. Er, Mr. Collier is not seeing anyone at the moment, but if you'd like to take a seat – "

He ignored her protests and headed straight for the inner door. Jordan sat alone at his desk, and looked up in surprise as Shawn entered.

"Shawn, what can I do for you?" He stood, slowly.

"Cut the crap Jordan. I want to know what you're doing to her." He resisted the urge to leap across the desk and attack Jordan, pulling the life from him with a single touch.

"I'm sorry?"

"To Claire! What are you doing to her?"

"Claire?" Jordan maintained nonchalance. "Oh, I didn't realize you two had become friends."

"Stop it! I didn't come here for a chat, Jordan, I want to know what your experiments are doing to her."

Jordan actually chuckled. "Shawn, I keep telling you, the particulars are of no importance." He stopped Shawn's heated protest with a wave of his hand. "What is important is that we are seeing _results_."

"Results?" Shawn eyed Jordan warily. "What do you mean?"

"Well frankly, since the two of you are such close friends, I suggest you ask her." Shawn was sure he was mistaken when he thought he heard hints of jealousy in Jordan's tone. "Now Shawn, if you don't mind, I have some rather important papers to sort through here."

Jordan was dismissing him. He had come there with every intention of beating Jordan to a pulp to punish him for hurting Claire and to exorcise his frustration at being left out of their dealings together, but he found himself standing almost calmly across the desk from the man he so desperately wanted to harm. He couldn't hurt Jordan, because Jordan was every bit as much the savior to him as he was to Claire. He had given Shawn a home when his own family rejected him out of fear and misunderstanding. Under Jordan's tutelage, Shawn had transformed from a brooding adolescent into a responsible adult in the remarkably short space of a year and a half. Yet his sense of gratitude wasn't what stopped Shawn from taking out his anger on his mentor; the fact was, Shawn still _believed_ in what Jordan was trying to do at the Center. He didn't understand why Jordan felt he needed to hurt Claire in order to accomplish his goals, but he still saw the importance in those goals. He turned slowly to leave the office, willing to give Claire the chance to explain for herself the experiments he had been so uninterested in mere weeks before.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys,

If anyone is still reading this, I'm sorry for the hideous delay. I've moved! And for anyone who's done it, you know it means access to the Internet is severely interrupted. But I have been thinking on the story (marinating on it, if you will), and it's still going places, even if I haven't been able to post in awhile. So to placate my existing reviewers and hopefully encourage you to stick with it, here's a long one…to be followed by more chapters in a more timely fashion.

Enjoy all!

Ursula

**Chapter 8**

Thanks to a busy work schedule, Shawn didn't see Claire at all for the rest of the day, he was kept so busy supervising courses and counseling new arrivals. With a sense of trepidation that had formed a hard lump in her throat that she found impossible to swallow, Claire reported to Jordan's apartment that evening, steeling herself for what was to come.

Surprisingly, he smiled at the sight of her, and rather than leading her to the back room as she was accustomed, he ushered her to his living room couch and sat next to her, fairly beaming with pleasure.

"Claire, well, as I'm sure you can tell, I'm remarkably pleased with the progress you have made so far as a result of our sessions."

"Yes, well, you do look pleased." She tried a small smile, her nervousness abating somewhat.

"Your friend Shawn came to see me today, and he seemed quite concerned for your welfare." Jordan's tone remained friendly, but she could tell he was searching her reaction for some clues to her relationship with Shawn. He got what he wanted; she started at the mention of Shawn's name. "And so, although I had planned to continue the experimentation for some time yet to determine the extent of your latent abilities; it seems Shawn's concerns have forced my hand." Still, he maintained the jovial tone, although Claire knew there could be nothing Jordan liked less than being forced to deviate from his carefully planned actions. "Now, if you will agree, I would like to organize a press conference at which you and I will be able to reveal your abilities to the general public to show them the giant leap forward you represent to the work of the 4400 foundation."

For a moment she was speechless; his invitation was so utterly unexpected. She had arrived there that night expecting him to have invented some new form of unpleasantness with which to plague her, but instead he wanted to reward her! She flashed a genuine smile. "Sure! I mean, of course! That would be great Jordan, great!"

His bearded face split into a wide smile. "Wonderful! What's say we drink to it?" He moved to uncork a bottle of wine on the kitchen counter behind them.

"What? Oh, okay." She took the proffered glass and raised it to his in a toast before taking a sip.

"I meant what I said before Claire. I really am very pleased with the progress you've been making. You've proven yourself to be capable of overcoming great hardship and have developed into a great asset for the center. I couldn't be prouder."

She smiled thinly, embarrassed by his effusive praise. "Well I do appreciate all the help you've given me Jordan."

"Oh, nonsense. You've really excelled." At this, he made the unexpected intimate gesture of reaching over and smoothing a lock of her hair between his forefinger and thumb. Confused, and resisting the urge to jump back, she gave a nervous chuckle and cleared her throat.

"Thank you."

And then he kissed her, and she froze. It was a gentle, tentative kiss, his beard scratchy against her cheek, yet nothing could have been more unexpected. Wasn't this the man who, twenty four hours previous, had tried fervently to cause her bodily harm? Hadn't he struck her with the back of his hand? She had no idea how to respond. Was this just a friendly thank-you kiss? When he saw that she wasn't resisting his overture, he deepened the kiss, reaching behind her to pull her to him, and Claire's senses came rushing back to her. Every muscle in her ached to push him away, to refuse him, but she owed him so much, she hesitated, wondering if she could deny him anything after all he had done for her. Confused and terrified, she choked on a sob and Jordan pulled away, a look of confusion on his face.

Conflicting emotions coursing through her, she collected herself. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I'm just – I mean I'm really sore, and I can't really – I'm sorry, I should go." This wasn't entirely true. Yes, her wounds were still tender, but she was using them as an excuse to escape Jordan's advances without causing him to feel hurt or rejected. She needed him to maintain his good opinion of her; her survival depended on it.

"Oh, I didn't realize…"

"No, I mean, of course you wouldn't." She forced a weak smile and edged toward the door. "I should really just go. Um, thank you for the – uh – " She gestured toward the wine glasses left on the coffee table, opened the door as calmly as possible, and as soon as she was far enough away from his door, broke into a frantic run.

She owed Jordan Collier a great debt, and she was grateful to him for all that he had given her. But after his recent treatment of her, his experiments, could he really expect her to reciprocate any romantic feelings he had? And what business of his was it to even foster any such feelings toward her? She was his employee, his student. Claire searched her mind for clues in Jordan's behavior that would have given her any idea what he expected of her. Finding none, and fearing Jordan's reaction if she didn't fulfill his expectations, she cried out loudly in frustration, choking on great, hiccupping sobs, finally succumbing to the fear that had shaken her since Jordan had begun his experiments. That who she kissed and who she loved should be governed by a sense of obligation made her ache with misery. Regardless of her debt to Jordan, it wasn't his place to tell her who she could be with, and she suddenly, desperately needed to prove that to herself.

It was late, near midnight, but she didn't care as she banged loudly on Shawn's door. He answered quickly, clearly he hadn't been asleep. His initial look of happiness at finding her at his door changed quickly to one of confusion and distress as he was confronted with the unaccustomed sight of her face wet with tears. "Claire, what's the matter?"

She grabbed his lapels of his jacket and pulled him to her, pressing her lips to his with such force and desperation, she was sure they would bruise. He sputtered. "Claire, what – "

"Don't ask me Shawn, please don't ask me." She pushed him into the apartment and kissed him again, pressing herself to him, needing to be closer, to be as close to him as she could be. He kissed her back, tentatively at first, but with increasing ardor. Still, he couldn't pretend not to notice the sobs that still shook her.

"Claire, what did he do to you?" Quite abruptly, the tears turned to fury as she looked up at him. She pushed him away roughly, suddenly disgusted.

"So that's what this is, is it? Just another attempt to get information from me about Jordan and his _fascinating experiments_?" Her words dripped with sarcastic fury. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Shawn, all your questions…asking me, every minute of every day, 'What is Jordan doing Claire? Tell me about your nights with Jordan, Claire.' Is this some kind of macho pissing contest for you? Well, I can tell you this, I don't go to _Jordan's_ apartment in the middle of the night and throw myself at _him_ only to be prodded for information!"

Shawn held up his hands in surrender, confused by her violent reaction to his question. "Hey, c'mon. It's not like that. I was just concerned."

"Oh don't give me that I-did-it-for-you bullshit!" She narrowed her eyes. "You've wanted to know about them from day one."

"Okay, okay, that may be!" The volume of Shawn's voice rose as he went more and more on the defensive against her attack. "But – but that was just because I wanted to be sure he wasn't hurting you!" Just like that, his anger deflated.

She shook her head, trying to maintain her indignant disbelief as she swiped the wetness from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.

"Okay, Claire, let's not fight. I won't ask again. Let's just…" His eyes searched his apartment frantically for some source of distraction. "Some tea maybe? My mom always gave me tea when I was upset, and lacking a sedative…" He succeeded in coaxing a small smile from her. "Let's see what I can find."

"Tea, sure." She trailed him to the kitchen where he rummaged through several cabinets. To give herself time to collect her emotions, she turned to look at the interior of his apartment, admiring the clean lines and open spaces. If she was honest with herself, she knew that he had meant well with his questions. She had just wanted to let herself feel something simple without sensing an alternative motive behind it. But she knew she had an alternative motive of her own. Would she have ever gone to Shawn if Jordan hadn't confused her with his unwanted advances?

"Well, this is embarrassing. I have no tea to offer you, but can I interest you in a bottle of Yoo-Hoo?"

"Mhm. Sure." She mumbled, still gazing at the apartment. Not seeing that her attention was elsewhere, he tossed the bottle in her direction and shouted when he saw that it was heading for her but she wasn't going to catch it. She turned just in time to see the bottle and, without thinking she glared at it, sending it spinning to crack against the kitchen wall, dribbling its contents to the floor.

"Jesus! What was that?"

"Oh wow, I'm sorry! I just wasn't thinking and - . Here, let me help you clean it up." She reached for a dish towel and bent over the spill, but he remained standing, staring with mouth agape.

"You can move things with your _mind_? Since when?"

"Not really. I mean, only if they're going to hurt me, I think. It's no big deal." She concentrated on mopping up the mess, trying not to look up at Shawn's shocked face. It appeared Shawn had discovered the results of her experiments with Jordan, whether she wanted to tell him or not.

"Yeah. Right. No big deal. Sure," he scoffed sarcastically. "I just repel objects with the force of my thoughts; it's no big deal." He mimicked her in a high, girlish voice.

She finished with the mess on the floor and turned to throw the dirty dishtowel in the sink. "Shut up."

"Why don't you make me? Can't you hurl some kitchen knives my way or something?" He smiled, jokingly.

She faced him, smiling in disbelief. She had gone there that night desperately wanting to prove her independence from Jordan and that desperation had quickly changed to anger (perhaps with the wrong person), but Shawn had managed to restore her to some sense of normalcy, and even got her joking with him over spilled chocolate drink. Her reply reflected her confusion at her own conflicting feelings. "I don't think I want to hurl kitchen knives at you." The phrase sounded so ridiculous, she shook her head and laughed upon saying it.

He laughed. "Good." He took a step toward her and kissed her lightly, still smiling. It felt sweet. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I mean, I will be." She looked up at him, suddenly slightly abashed by her behavior. "Thanks."

"Hey, it was no big deal. Look, it's late and you're…" he chuckled. "…a mess." She smiled ruefully in acknowledgement. "Do you want to crash here tonight? Save yourself the walk?"

Exhausted, Claire nodded. "That would be nice. Thanks." She gazed at him mutely, wondering for a moment if she should kiss him again, so badly did she want to express without words how much she appreciated him for easing her burdens, if only for a few moments. As if he understood, Shawn pulled her into a tight embrace, but she couldn't help gasping at the pressure on her bruises.

He noticed and pulled away. "Jordan…?" He seemed torn between anger and sadness.

"It doesn't matter." She meant it. At the moment, her bruises meant nothing.

"Does it hurt?" He looked so confused, suddenly.

She took his hand and, smiling, pressed it to the bruise on her cheek that he had failed to heal that morning. "Not anymore." Seeing the tired look in her eyes, he said no more, but took her hand and led her quietly to his bedroom, closing the door softly behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm well aware it's been an unpardonably long time since I've updated this story. But I'd be glad for readers (and reviewers), as I have a bit of time to write before class starts again. Hope you all enjoy!

Ursula

**Chapter 9**

Claire reached Jordan's office before he did that morning and busied herself at her desk, trying not to speculate on how their interaction would play out after the events of the previous evening. She tried not to look up from her work when he entered, hoping he would appreciate avoiding the topic as much as she would, but he stopped in front of her desk and cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Claire, a word?" He gestured for her to follow him into his office, and she did, obediently, although not with an accompanying sense of dread.

Seeking to head him off before he found time to berate her, she began: "Jordan, I'm sorry about last night, I just…"

He interrupted. "It's funny you should bring that up Claire, as that was exactly what I wanted to discuss." She prepared herself for some high-minded justification, a claim that his kissing her had been merely another facet of his experimental method, but his next comment shocked her to speechlessness. "Now, I'm at a loss as to how to put this tactfully, but as you know, I have security detail monitoring the hallways of the Center twenty four hours a day, and I have to say they've brought some rather disturbing information to my attention concerning your behavior."

She could only nod, thoroughly confused.

"You were spotted, Claire, going into Shawn's apartment last night and leaving again this morning looking rather – how shall I put this – disheveled?"

Still unable to speak, she cocked a quizzical eyebrow at him. Where could this possibly be going?

"Now Claire, I can in no way condone such behavior among my employees. What would the public reaction be if they saw me portrayed as running some sort of…" He leaned toward her and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as if this would be enough to win her to his point. "…_house of ill repute._"

This loosened her tongue. "_Excuse me?_ I'm not sure I understand you here Jordan."

He gave her his familiar disappointed father figure look. "Claire, we are both well aware of your - ah – history, but I thought we were clear that behavior that may have been acceptable, or even necessary, in your old life has no place while you're living here under my protection."

"I don't like what you're implying, Jordan." Claire pursed her lips, willing her voice not to rise to an angry level.

"Oh Claire, I think we're past implying. We're good friends here." His smile was sickening. "I think I can safely just come out and say what I mean."

"By all means."

"I can't have you peddling your services to my employees. It's disruptive to the working environment to have you sneaking in and out of various men's rooms in the middle of the night, keeping them up until all hours…"

All hope of control was now lost for Claire as she fairly choked on her rage. Jordan was venting his petty jealousy having discovered her spending the night at Shawn's by calling her a whore to her face. She laughed mirthlessly. "_Various_ men Jordan? No – _one_ man, _one_. Are you just upset because I spent the night there instead of cozied up in your apartment? Are you looking for some salacious tryst so you can play the role of jilted lover? Well I apologize, because I have nothing so scandalous to give you. The truth is, it's none of your business what when on between me and Shawn last night, but because I _pity_ your _pathetic_ attempt to discredit me, I'm going to tell you what happened anyway. That's what you want, isn't it? A confession? _Bless me Father for I have sinned?"_ She fairly spat the words at him. "Well here it is. I did spend the night at Shawn's apartment. I slept in his bed next to him all night. Period. So sorry to disappoint."

During her rant, he had rounded his desk to approach her, his disappointed expression changing as she raged to one of anger that bordered on hatred. Then, just as he had done two nights before, he slapped her soundly across the face, making sickening contact with the bruise that was already there. "I'm surprised at you Claire." His voice remained calm. "That you would speak to me like this after everything I've given you, everything I've done for you." He grabbed her upper arms and shook her violently; her teeth rattled alarmingly in her head, and her own anger turned to fear. "That you would throw everything back in my face with no regard for the sacrifices I've made on your behalf. Where's your _gratitude, _your _appreciation_? I deserve your reverence, not your contempt." He shoved her roughly and she, losing her balance, crumpled to the floor. Jordan towered over her menacingly, but seemingly satisfied with the impression he had left, he smoothed his shirt front in an effort to maintain his composure. His concerned parent expression returned abruptly, and he said in icy tones: "I will not be requiring your services today Claire. Perhaps you should return to your apartment and think over what you've done, decide where your allegiances lie."

Without even really rising from her subjugated poison on the floor, she scrabbled to the door, breathing raggedly. All respect, all feelings of indebtedness that she had wrestled with regarding Jordan left her, and she was left with a sense of overwhelming anger and fear. Jordan believed his every action was justified, and Claire was left with no doubt of what he was capable of should she cross him again.

She scrambled to her apartment, carelessly shoving aside the other 4400s that crossed her path in her hurry to do what she needed to. She flung open her closet door and began throwing her belongings into the open duffel on her bed. She struggled not to cry, for she was leaving the only home she had known for years, even before her abduction. She barely registered the knock on her door, and Shawn poked his head in uninvited to find her packing.

"I stopped by Jordan's to see you, but he said you were taking a sick day, so I thought I'd – Hey, what's going on?" She ignored him and he stepped farther into the room. "Claire, what are you…? Are you packing?"

She rounded on him and snapped, "Yes Shawn, yes. That's pretty clearly what I'm doing."

"Are you leaving?"

"I have to go. I can't stay here."

"Did Jordan -?"

"Shawn, don't ask me. Please. I've said it a million times. Just don't ask me."

"But you can't just –"

She stopped hurling objects into her bag and looked at him, her eyes blazing. "I can. I have to. I'm going."

He swallowed, brought up short by the prospect of losing her. "Fine. But, I mean, where will you go? Do you have any idea…"

"No, no I don't. I have no plan, no ideas, nowhere to go. But I have to go somewhere." As he looked down at her, she seemed defeated, not determined, blindly running away with nothing to run to.

"I – I know a place."

"What?"

"I mean, I think I know a place you could stay. Just for awhile. Just until you figured things out." Her look of hope was almost unbearable.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Thank you Uncle Tommy. I really appreciate this." Shawn shook his uncle's hand earnestly. "I know that things have been rough between the two of us lately, but this is a great thing you're doing for me. I won't forget it."

Tom smiled warmly at his nephew. He had been looking for a way to mend the rift between them for some time, and Shawn himself had dropped the answer in his lap. "Well if it's that important to you Shawn, I'm happy to help. Claire, it's nice to meet you."

"Mr. Baldwin." Claire gave an uncertain smile as she shook Tom's hand firmly.

"Well, you can stay in the guest room. Why don't I get my son to show you the way. Kyle!"

Shawn's cousin ambled down the stairs and looked inquiringly at the scene before him. He hadn't seen his once-favorite cousin is quite some time, since the two of them had had a falling out about Shawn's devotion to Jordan Collier.

"Hey coz, it's good to see you." The two boys hugged briefly.

"It's good to see you too man. It's been too long."

"Look, Kyle," said Tom, "This is Claire. She's looking for a place to stay for awhile, and I told Shawn she can take the guest room. Could you show her up there while I have a word with your cousin?"

Quickly erasing the puzzled expression on his face, Kyle adopted his usual easygoing grin. "Sure Dad. Shawn, I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you."

Claire gave Shawn a quick smile as she turned to follow Kyle, but Shawn grabbed her arm to stop her going. "Look, you'll be good here, and I'll be back soon to check up. Just – uh, well, 'bye."

"Don't worry Shawn, I think I'll manage." Claire gave what she thought was an encouraging smile. "I'll see you soon." She squeezed his hand and followed Kyle out of the kitchen.

"So not that I don't appreciate your ambush tactics, but are you going to tell me what this is all about?" Tom fixed Shawn with a concerned stare. "What kind of trouble is this girl in?"

"I know, I'm sorry I just sprung that on you, but I didn't know where else to take her. She was going to run, and I knew it would be better for her if she stayed here."

"Better for her or better for you?" Shawn opened his mouth, but found no response. "Don't worry about it, just tell me what she's running from. Did she do something illegal?"

"No, _no_ Uncle Tommy, it's nothing like that. Look," he passed his hand over his face, exasperated, "she got into some trouble with Jordan, and she needs to be away from him for awhile."

"Trouble with Jordan Collier?" Tom couldn't resist the jab. "But I thought he was some sort of holy man, the hope for the future of humanity." He had long disagreed with his nephew over the motives Jordan Collier had for opening the 4400 Center and representing the movement as he did. Tom didn't share Shawn's blind faith in Jordan's vision for a better future.

Shawn didn't take the bait as Tom expected him to; he only shook his head, looking troubled. "Please don't do that. I don't really know what's going on, but I do know that Claire could use some looking after for awhile, and there's no one else I would rather have on the job than you Uncle Tommy."

The words almost brought tears to Tom's eyes; it had been so long since he and Shawn had been able to speak freely and honestly with one another. It touched him to know that his nephew still trusted him. "Well in that case, I'm happy to take the job."

"Thank you."

"Well as long as it means we'll be seeing more of you. Kyle and I miss seeing your face around here."

"I can promise you that."

"Good."

"Look, I've got to get back to the Center, work to do, you know?" Shawn motioned toward the door.

"Shawn, is there anything I can do to help there? I mean, if there are problems with Collier…"

"No, don't worry about it. I've got it under control. Thanks though. Thanks so much Uncle Tommy." The two embraced before Shawn headed back to the Center, back to Jordan's inevitable displeasure at finding Claire missing.

"So are you in trouble with the law?" Kyle asked half-playfully as they walked up the stairs toward the guest room.

"Not this time around." Kyle chuckled.

"You're a 4400 then?"

"Could you tell by the way I have it tattooed on my forehead?"

"Yeah, call it a sixth sense." Claire smiled. The two got along instantly. Kyle's easygoing nature was such a relief after being surrounded by the pressures of the 4400. "Well, this is it." He gestured to an open door at the end of the hall, the guest room. "The bathroom's down that way, and there's my room and my dad's. You've seen the kitchen, and you're free to eat whatever's in there, although I can't guarantee the expiration dates haven't passed. You've stumbled into quite the bachelor pad here."

"I wouldn't worry," Claire reassured him as she peered into the floral decorated guest room. "I've lived in much worse." She stepped into the room with her duffel, but Kyle hesitated at the door before leaving her.

"So, are you and Shawn…Are you dating my cousin? Is that why he brought you here?"

Claire smiled. "He's just doing a favor for a friend is all."

"Oh, right." Kyle didn't seem entirely convinced. "Well, I'll be down the hall if you need anything."

"Thanks Kyle."


End file.
